Music of Memories
by freedomgeneration
Summary: Ginny fell in love with Blaise unintentionally in his last year of school. Now she's a successful woman and he- a successful man who has come strolling into her life again. Witness as Ginny tries to prove that she don't love him no more, no siree!
1. Chapter 1

Hope you all enjoy. What you don't recognize is mine, whatever you do is JK Rowling's. This story is in slight relation to Chasing Chocolate. Please read that fic if you wish to understand this one better, thank you. Fair warning: Ginny/Blaise

-princecharprincesswit

She could feel the warmth of the air kissing her cheeks. Summer was so, very near that it took all of Ginny's willpower not to bounce. She gazed at the lake in all its glorious summer colors of green and blue.

She felt like swimming. Oh Merlin, how she felt like swimming. She tiptoed from her spot under the great oak tree, closer to the edge of the lake.

The students of Hogwarts were also out and about, roving and frolicking, enjoying the brilliant, not-quite-there-yet-but-almost-there summer day.

She could see from here standpoint Hermione and Draco (she had called him that ever since Hermione and Draco had been officially in a relationship). She was so glad for them, smiling at the memory. First they were enemies, now they end up engaged. Fate just has a bloody-brilliant sense of humor.

Ginny was grinning now. Nobody was near her. Her brother was off again with some chit, Harry was snoozing back in the Commons. Perfect. A perfect opportunity presented in front of her.

She gazed at the lake again. The Great Squid was nowhere in sight. She made a quick survey around her.

'Good, good,' she thought 'no one is near'.

She made a hasty grab for her worn Mary Janes and tugged. Next came her socks. She scrambled to the water edge and dunked her feet. An involuntary sigh left her throat. She wiggled her toes a bit, finding the water pleasantly cool.

A deep, somehow familiar voice rumbled chuckling behind her. Wondering who it was, she turned, a gasp stuck at her throat. There, outlined by the sun was Bliase Zabini, looking for all the world like a sculpture by Michelangelo himself.

"May I join you, Ginerva?" he asked.

That's what Ginny liked abut him. He always said her real name, not Ginny, as if he liked the sound of her name rolling off his tongue. She certainly did.

"If I say no?" Ginny said imperiously, turning her nose up at him (hard to do since she was on her bum and him on his feet).

"Aw, shucks, move over, love," Blaise said as he sat himself beside her.

When Ginny thought that no one was out to disturb her, she had forgotten about him. Ever since Hermione's dating Draco, some Slytherins have become quite adopted friends of the Gryffindor House. Ginny and Blaise had an odd sort of friendship.

They instinctively knew what each other felt and needed. Really odd is that Ginny was always quite drawn to Blaise, no matter how hard she tried not to.

Blaise was removing his own socks ad shoes. Ginny could see a faint reminiscent look in his eyes, and an expression in them that said he wanted to capture the moment forever.

The day was warm and Ginny had discarded her robes to the side, loosened her tie and popped the two top buttons off her shirt. She noticed Blaise doing the same thing.

Suddenly, without quite meaning to the words slipped past her lips in a fond sigh, much like the reflection in his eyes,

"I wish we wouldn't have to leave."

She didn't feel shy, telling Blaise that when she would've felt mortified at others discovering her feelings for Hogwarts. Even just by sitting next to him, feet dipped in the pond, she felt secured.

Odd.

"Ginerva, when we're all out of Hogwarts, promise me that we'll still be friends." He had turned to her, his eyes as intense as his voice.

Ginny looked at him, knowing suddenly that he was worried about graduating.

"Blaise, don't be worried," she replied.

They both knew she wasn't referring only to their friendship, but about the future as well. A knot formed in her stomach, having the knowledge that in night not be _their _future, but a hope flaring that there _will be_ a future eased the odd pain of emptiness in her gut.

Blaise sat beside her whistling a tune and she joined in. She was going to miss him. He stood up, dragging her with him and held her close dancing. She was laughing and so was he dancing to the music of memories of laughter, joy, and tears. He started whistling again and spinning her. She was laughing and, again, so was he.

The class photographer, compiling photos for the year book came by and took a shot of them, happy and dancing. When she looked up at his merry eyes and stared into their deep sapphire pools, she discovered something: she was in love with Blaise Zabini, her friend.

That was not supposed to happen, she thought.

But it just did.


	2. Chapter 2

Author: princecharmprincessswit

Title: Music of Memories, Chapter Two

Disclaimer: What you recognize is JK Rowling's, not is mine.

Author's Note: Please enjoy. If you's care to review, that would be nice, too. Let me know what you feel.

-Five Yeas Later-

Ginny, now twenty-three, stared out the French windows, at the blue skies and the balcony. It was summer again. It has been five years since she had fallen in love with Blaise Zabini on the lakeside.

After their words of friendship, 'This was left,' she thought, 'me, alone in my workroom, and him in some glamorous part of the world.'

After Blaise's graduation, they had certainly exchanged letters, but they didn't know why those letters lessened and lessened until there were no more to be sent. When Blaise had graduated he immediately set about expanding further Zabini Internationals, the family business which was on its own immense. She had seen him multiple times on newspapers, declaring a deal officially, out on a date with a gorgeous model –the chit looking lovely in her slinky gown, and Blaise looking dashing in his dark suits, dragon-hide shoes, dark hair, blue eyes, and dazzling smile.

Still stuck in Hogwarts, Ginny made a mad dive at studying and having fun, and winning quidditch tournaments. She dated, all right, just to have fun.

When Ginny herself graduated, she went directly to France, to the best wozarding arts university, studying interior decorating. When she left England, she was sent off with hugs, kisses and love from her family, no sign of Blaise – probably is some cabin with some other chit. When she left France, she was sent off by friends and admirers and supporters and lovers, beaming, and having had the top grades and qualifications to be _the best _professional interior decorator on all of wizarding England.

She was welcomed by the press, her family, friends and admirers. She didn't see Blaise there, though. He was in some other land doing business.

She had made her own empire, Exquisite Taste Inc., eventually paying off her debts to her parents for her education, earning more than enough, furnishing the burrow as a Christmas gift, lavishing nieces and nephews with gifts.

Life was treating the 5'8'', blue-eyed, red-haired beauty very, very well. Publicity was no problem; she was the one asked by magazines, not the other way around.

She lived in a gloriously beautiful manor, Chalet Ricercato with sprawling grounds and baroque façade. She lived there with other tenants as well, often having an enjoyable meal or two with them in the comfortable kitchen. When she had spare time, she'd open up an unused room –one which was not prohibited from them, got out her wand and brushes and potions and paints, and brought the room slowly and painstakingly back to enchanting life.

A bird twittered on the balcony rail, snapping Ginny out of her thoughts. It was time for lunch now, might as well go out, she reasoned to herself. She stood up from her stuffed leather chair behind her desk, picked up her ice blue blazer with pale pink trimmings, matching her pants, heels and blouse, grabbed her bag and left the door. She opened the door and patted her hair, checking to see if it was still in place in the hasty chignon she put it in.

She stepped out of her mint green sanctuary, her office, and said "Jane, I'm off to lunch."

Jane, her secretary, a petite brunette with delicate features, smiled gaily at her "All right, Miss Weasley. You have an interview later with The Housekeepers' Tattlers, at three."

"Thank you, Jane."

With that, Ginny popped out to the street, heading to Florean Fortescue's for a nibble of sandwich and strawberries drowned in Mr. Fortescue's fresh cream. With a bounce in her step, she sailed down the street, unaware of the many pairs of admiring eyes as she passed. She ate her lunch under the umbrella at Fortescue's newly renovated-by-her porch, enjoying the summer weather.

She paid up and left, instead of walking back, just popped back to her office just for the heck of it and sailed past Jane's table letting her know she was present. When she closed the door to her sanctuary, feeling refreshed by the primrose yellow and mint green accents of the room, she signed papers, drew up sketches and colored until 3:00. She was seated in her chair, tidying things up when a knock sounded at her door.

Jane entered "Miss Weasley, Mrs, Grisham is here, from The Housekeeper's Tattler."

"Show her in, Jane."

When Mrs. Grisham entered, Ginny stood up and went round the table to kiss the lady's taut cheeks, pulled tight over her face.

"Mrs. Grisham, please, call me Ginerva," Ginny said smoothly, at once noticing the woman's haughty expression.

She knew exactly what this woman' type was. She had to be coddled and coaxed and impressed to make her have a good opinion of anyone. Ginny always knew how to asses each person, knew exactly how to treat them that the became known as "The Media's Sweetheart".

Two hours later, Mrs. Grisham came out of the room, a beaming smile stretched over her lips, and a firm belief that 'mint green is simply the color!' Ginny stood by the door, watching Mrs. Grisham with a hint of indulgence as Mrs. Grisham's girl (photographer for the Tattler) snapped photos of tall, languid Ginerva and beaming, haughty Mrs. Grisham in Ginerva's waiting room. Mrs. Grisham and the photographer left quite soon enough.

"Jane, I'm going home, make sure to lock up," Ginny said gently to the girl.

"Yes, of course, Miss Weasley," it was, after all, not unusual that Ginny would wish to go early.

Ginny flicked a glance to the offices of her assistants down the hall and apparated down the street. She gazed up at the façade of her building, Exquisite Taste Inc., feeling a flush of warm pride spread though her body. The white-washed building, with curling iron work did look exquisite.

Ginny soon sped up and about a corner, unaware of a pair of confused blue eyes following her movements and the body's owner turning the other direction.


	3. Chapter 3

Author: princecharmprincesswit

Title: Music of Memories, Chapter Three

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, not mine, anything you don't - mine.

Author's Note: Please feel free to comment. They would be very much appreciated. Let me know what you think to know how to think.

Blaise stood beside the window facing the extensive garden of one of his manor houses in England.

'So, that's how she really looks like now,' he thought.

He has always seen her on the cover of some magazine or another. He saw a beautiful woman, but not Ginerva. Not his Ginerva. The press continually made that error – they took a picture, not knowing the true personality of that person they are taking a picture of show who they truly are; they only capture the façade of the person.

Blaise looked over to the pictures running along the mantle on top of the marble fireplace. Among those pictures was one of him and Ginerva. She was tall and gangly then, but she was still beautiful. She had an easy charm, quick wit, and a vibrancy that was contagious, all of which made her beautiful –the envy of every girl.

Ginerva was now more beautiful than he last saw her. She had her brothers' height, yes, but she has filled out to be a proper woman -not overly voluptuous, nor overly slim, but just a nice curved thing. She still carried herself the same way, of relaxed languor and appreciation of everything, and still possessed the unique qualities of 'Ginerva', making Blaise miss her all the more.

The glinting of diamonds on his finger transported him back to memories. It was a week after the Lakeside Discussion, as he had started calling it in his head, when the rings he had ordered made arrived.

His ordering of the custom-made rings did raise eyebrows, especially from his mother. Blaise knew that he didn't usually give his ever changing supply of girlfriends any serious stuff, but then, Ginerva was not a girlfriend. She just happened to be a treasured best mate of one of the riches and oldest wizarding families around, unintentionally, of course.

After dinner that evening, he planned to give one of them to Ginerva. Ginerva got off her chair the exact moment Blaise had predicted she would, five minutes after 8:00, her reason was: 'Why should I be squashed in the middle of those rushing nitpicks, eh? I can get out 15 minutes _after_ the Great Rush Hour.' He chased after her as she rounded on a corner, tossing her a red velvet box, the exact shade of her liquefied ruby red hair. She caught it reflexively, quickly, due to years of practice in quidditch.

"What is this?" she asked, shock etched clearly on her face.

"It's my gift to you," Blaise stated simply, as if giving out diamond rings was a daily _chore_ for him.

Ginny opened the box as Blaise approached, when he reached her side, he was surprised that Ginerva had thrown the box to his head (it bounced off with a sharp 'Cluck!' and he reached out to catch it), and hit his upper arm.

"That was not a funny joke, git", she said staring into his eyes.

His eyes slowly smiled and sparkled. "Don't be a silly goose, love! These are our friendship rings!" he said jovially, opening the box and showing her the rings inside.

Air stuck in Ginny's throat as she saw the rings clearly. They were infinity diamond rings set in gold, instead of plain off-shooter diamonds, the diamonds were shaped, big, and clear.

"They must've cost a fortune!" Ginny breathed.

Blaise smiled at her enchanted expression. By Merlin! He was enchanted himself! Ginny gazed at the rings. She saw the smaller one have star shaped diamonds, clear and twinkling.

She remembered once, beside the lake, she had been painting the sky, with a million of hiding stars, and Blaise, sitting beside her quietly, contentedly. She also saw another one, much larger in size, instead of stars, it had circles on it, but Ginny understood that it was the moon.

"Do you want me to put yours on your finger?" Blaise asked unnecessarily, as he took her right hand and slipped it on her third finger, fitting perfectly.

"Here, let me do that for you," she offered, taking the box and the ring from him, and slipping the ring on the exact finger where he put hers.

"But… what are they for?' she asked, wonder lacing her words.

"You know, it's like what muggles do. They exchange friendship knickknacks," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"What I meant was, what _are _they for?" she asked again.

Blaise knew exactly what she meant: Why her?

"Well, you and I are friends, right?" That was before he fell in love with her. Without waiting for her reply, he continued

"Well, they're to represent our friendship. Even if we fight, we'll still have the rings to show that we were friends once, so why not again?" he reasoned.

When she looked up at him, her eyes were filled with something that Blaise couldn't name, but he was sure it was reflected in his own eyes, making him feel a spread of warmth throughout his body.

She said "Thank you so much, Blaise. I will never forget this, lose this, sell this, etcetera!"

She threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. He hugged her back real tight too.

The lazy wisp of the wind brought him back to his home office. He went to his desk and penned a letter to his Head Secretary, Luke Thomas.

It read:

Thomas,

Find Ginerva Weasley's residence in present time for me ready at my office desk tomorrow at 10:00.

–Z

Blaise had seen many houses she had done up, many pictures the media had, but not her present residential home. Over the years he had been missing her more and more. His business kept him from sending her off, welcoming her home, congratulating her on her many successes, and in general miss out on her. He had felt like shite increasingly over the years.

It was time to see her again.


	4. Chapter 4

Author: princecharmprincesswit

Title: Music of Memories, Chapter Four

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, not mine, anything you don't - mine.

Author's Note: Please feel free to comment. They would be very much appreciated. Let me know what you think to know how to think.

Ginny stretched out languorously on her queen sized bed, staring up at the gold ceiling. She personally restored her own room, like the rest of most of the rooms of the manor house. The walls of the room were a delicate peppermint green in silk wallpaper, with little embossments of gold butterflies and flowers sprinkled randomly. The ochre plaster moldings on the ceiling and floor, with little butterfly decorations and flowers, like the wall, had taken the greatest care and patience necessary to bring it back to life. The springy and thick peppermint green carpeting had taken at least about five scourgifies and her special cleaning potion. Her special cleaning potion had been developed personally by her, a potion meant to clean and nourish, with nothing harsh in it, to clean specifically antiques and heirlooms. Her bed was a delicate ochre-colored wooden affair of curls and twirls, the silk covers of gold and green creating a calming effect and thereby uniting the color scheme of the room.

She put her hands above her head, the ring on her right middle finger catching the light and sparkling like the stars in the midnight sky. She grimaced.

She had tried to remove the ring after she had convinced herself, while in France, that she wasn't in love with Blaise Zabini any more. She convinced herself that if their friendship meant nothing more to Blaise, then it most certainly won't matter to her. She pulled and tugged, together with her friend Jacqueline Mainard, only to discover the ring fastened in place by a charm.

That time, she felt like pulling her hair, along with Blaise's dark locks. She had never found a time when she wanted to remove it, the ring had an odd glow about it. When Blaise had put it on her finger all those years ago, she remembered feeling a warmth spread though her. Only then in France did she find the occasion to remove it.

Now, lying on her bed, she gave a lazy, half-hearted tug, knowing it won't come off.

It didn't.

Blaise had never told her that it was charmed. The ring still looked lovely on her finger, bringing out the glow in her pale, milky skin. As far as she was concerned, as she had tried to convince herself and Jacqueline in France, she was over him.

Right.

She doubted that Jackie ever truly believed her. She sometimes doubted even herself.

The house felt odd today, she noticed. Almost everything seemed to glow. There was a charm in the air. Ginny, especially sensitive to charms and spells ever since the opening of the chamber, felt that this day, something indeed (whatever it was) was going to happen.

She got out of the bed and went to the adjoining bathroom. The bathroom was had lovely, luxurious violet and silver color scheme. The silk wallpapers of violet, when cast with a candles golden glow, looked ethereal, with silver embossment of falling stars. The gray plaster moldings shaped in stars, frosted over with silver paint, looked impossibly expensive. The floor was a deep dark grey marble, smooth and glossy.

There was a tub in the middle if the circular room with claws that gave the room a royal appearance was made in the early 18th century, a shower stall, also made in the early 18th century (who knew the wizards had that then?). The entire one-fourth section of the room was covered with floor-to-ceiling mirrors.

The adjoining archway opened to the dressing room, which also had a door that adjoined to the sitting room.

She took a shower, using the vanilla and citrus shower gel and shampoo, especially made for her tastes, toweled and dried.

She went to the dressing room. The dressing room was huge, light and airy. It was wallpapered in pale orange, with eggshell-blue plaster molding of tulip design. From the floor, random eggshell blue tulips with eggshell-blue stems and leaves popped up from the plaster on the floor, the carpet was a warm burnt orange color. The furniture was light wood, with curls and furls that made everything seem delicate, disguising the sturdy quality of it all. One wall was covered with floor-to-ceiling cabinets of pale orange and eggshell-blue designs. On one wall, a dressing table was situated, complete with a little cushioned chair, on one side was a chaise-lounge for a little relaxation.

She strolled to the cabinet and chose a crème lightweight summer pantsuit, with white piping and gold buttons, and a champagne colored silk blouse. She slipped on matching peeptoes that sgave a peek of perfectly manicure pale pink toenails, a slender gold chain with a ruby droplet on her neck, and ruby droplets that trembled on her ears. She dried her hair with magic. The ruby tresses sprang up in full body of waves and curls. Ginny took a gold, silk ribbon and tied a loose bow on the nape of her neck.

Whatever this day had, she was ready.

She stepped out of the dressing room, passed through the powder-blue sitting room and onto the hallway, where she nearly collided with Jemima, an exotic dancer.

"Ginny, luv, a Mister Handsome is waiting for you in the kitchen," Jemima practically _breathed_ out.

"If it's that bloody git Don again, I swear I'll jinx him till he sees quadruple," Ginny announced, making sure her voice was audible to the back staircase that led to the kitchen, presumably used in the old times by the servants, but was now a shortcut to the new tenants.

"Naw, luv, this 'un's real handsome. Y'all love 'im," Jemima said as she made her way to her rooms.

Jemima, though an exotic dancer, had a 'orrible Cockney slur.

Ginny flew down the stairs announcing, "Don, I have told you _never_ to show your face to me again! I swear-," she cut off seeing a tall, dark haired, caramel-skinned, blue-eyed, Italian Deity.

She thought she was ready for anything. Turns out she was wrong.

Bloody wrong.

Before she could turn tail and flee, Blaise said "I'm almost feeling sorry for that Don you're shrieking about," he said tentatively, like a child.

Ginny felt a great tug at her heart at Blaise's anxiety.

"Zabini," she nodded to him "what are you doing here?" she asked frostily.

She decided that no matter how she still felt for him, however anxious he was, she will not melt.

Like a sculpture being formed, he straightened up and said "How are you, Ginerva?"

"Fine. You?"

It was not an occasion warranting the forgoing of good manners.

"I am fine," he replied coolly.

"Was there anything you want?" That's right, be curt, Ginny.

"I wanted to see how you were. By the looks of it, you're doing wonderfully."

"I am. If you are worried about the ring," she lifted up her right hand for him to see the Immovable Ring "you may have it back. It is your bloody charm anyway that won't allow this moved."

She shoved her hand in front for him to see. He took her hand and instead, held it firmly in his warm ones.

"Remember what we said? They're to represent our friendship no matter what."

Ginny tried to pull her hand free but to no avail.

"You were the one who didn't give a fig about this _friendship_. You were quite happy to let it rot," she spat.

The scene they made in the lemon colored kitchen was of domestic comfort, a very intimate scene.

"Alas, Ginerva," the Bloody Git sighed "these rings are permanently charmed. _I_ wasn't the one who placed a charm on these anyway. Mother saw it fit to "not waste money, besides, Darling, these rings are too pretty to be removed," he quoted his Mother.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked, her curiosity finally emerging.

"I had my secretary run a check."

"Right. Didn't you see it fit to see me then? All those years ago?" she asked softly.

"I was busy, though that is no excuse. I am sorry," he said, genuinely repentant.

"Stupid of me. What do you want now?" she asked her voice hardening.

"Nothing. I was just checking up on my best mate, is all," he replied, his clean, genteel English accent crisp and right.

"Zabini, best mate? Best mate?" she spluttered "We haven't seen each other for years and you're talking about our friendship-that-isn't? You make me laugh!" her voice was becoming shrill.

"I'll try to catch up," he said, his eyes had the same intense expression in them as that day in the lake.

"No, Blaise. I- I'm getting late, excuse me," she said, flustered, pulling her hand away.

"Ginerva, I truly am going to try, you know. See you soon, love. Don't be a silly goose, now, Duchess," he said, calling her by that special nickname he gave her.

It came about when she was painting a 17th century scene of a Duke and a Duchess dancing in a sparkling ballroom.

With those parting words, he left the kitchen, striding toward the iron gates that swung open.

That was odd, Ginny thought, for a moment forgetting her life-altering confrontation (if you call it that). 'Those gates don't swing open for anyone, except me,' rang out in her mind. The gates responded to some kind of magic, she thought. The fact that the house was humming with magic was also an odd thing.

'What was it about Blaise Zabini that made the house sensitive?' she thought.

Blaise had said that he will try. 'He will try what?' now _that_ was the question.

Whatever Ginny thought she knew, she knew and was sure that this won't be the last time she'll see Blaise.

He looked older, the planes of his face more angularly man, his posture that of one who has achieved what he wanted to. He was dressed impeccably in a muggle-style suit, which has become the style of the Wizarding world. It was considered more convenient and practical.

Whatever happened to her equilibrium, she was off to work.


End file.
